


Whispered Waltz

by porridgemilk (orphan_account)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Yakuza, Blow Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-29
Updated: 2016-02-29
Packaged: 2018-05-24 00:09:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6134734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/porridgemilk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Make me forget," Iwaizumi said, his voice breaking just the slightest as he leans closer. He rests a hand on Oikawa's chest and feels the light thrum of his heart under his cotton shirt. Oikawa tilts his head to the side and waits for something more.<br/>"Do you want to forget?" he asks, "Us? Them? What do you wish to forget?"<br/>"<i>Everything.</i>" Iwaizumi closes his eyes once, forms a resolve like he does every time his fingers curl around the cold metal of the trigger. It’s the same now, but his eyes are so much warmer and so human that it makes Oikawa feel alive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whispered Waltz

Oikawa can feel Iwaizumi’s eyes on him and he turns to look at him, lips curling into a welcoming smile. He meets his gaze and holds it. Lets it stay for the few seconds it takes for Iwaizumi to cross the room and come to stand next to him. His hands are idle at his side, and Oikawa lets his rest on his lap, waiting for Iwaizumi to do something instead of just standing there while he sits on the leather couch, heart clenched painfully between his ribs. He waits.

"Iwa-chan," he says, voice soft, "Iwaizumi." The moment is tense, and Oikawa feels odd saying his name so lightly.

"Do you want something from me?" he says in a gentler voice when Iwaizumi comes to sit next to him, unbuttoning the front of his pinstriped suit, so it doesn't crease. Always so mindful of his surroundings even when his body wants nothing more than to give into the soft pleas that escape Oikawa's lips.

"Make me forget," Iwaizumi said, his voice breaking just the slightest as he leans closer. He rests a hand on Oikawa's chest and feels the light thrum of his heart under his cotton shirt. Oikawa tilts his head to the side and waits for something more.

"Do you want to forget?" he asks, "Us? Them? What do you wish to forget?"

"Everything." Iwaizumi closes his eyes once, forms a resolve like he does every time his fingers curl around the cold metal of the trigger. It’s the same now, but his eyes are so much warmer and so human that it makes Oikawa feel alive.

Oikawa pulls him close and brings his head to rest on his chest where his fingers are splayed, tentative and asking for more.

They never talk about it more than this and Oikawa lets the same feeling of familiarity push him into action. He traces a path down Iwaizumi's chest, pushes apart his jacket and moves down. Iwaizumi's breath is a single shudder, anticipating what's to come and what Oikawa wants.

Oikawa wants and wants. But those desires are better left unspoken, so he turns his eyes back to Iwaizumi's, swallows the tender words that threaten to spill past his lips, and smiles. It’s wolfish and full of desire and Iwaizumi responds to it, breath quickening and fingers tightening over the fabric of his shirt. He clenches once, pulls him forward so that their faces are inches apart, and Oikawa can almost hear Iwaizumi's elevated heartbeat. He pretends it doesn’t make him feel anything— he only smiles.

"How would you like it this time?" he asks, moving slightly so that his back rests against the arm of the sofa, getting into a better position so he can let Iwaizumi closer. He moves without warning, pressing Oikawa back down on the soft cushioning and coming to lean down across him, a knee pressed between his legs, pushing them apart. A hand slides down his thigh and Oikawa shivers, a soft groan escaping his lips.

“I haven’t prepared myself,” Oikawa says quickly, a little breathless as Iwaizumi’s fingers dance around the waist of his trousers, pulling at the buckle of his belt as if hoping that it would just come off like that. He’s still playing a slow leisurely game of pretend and Oikawa likes to see the flicker of hesitation that’s always present in Iwaizumi’s eyes when they’re like this, breaths mingling together in the silence of the room.

“It’s fine,” Iwaizumi says after a while, dipping his head and grazing his teeth over Oikawa’s neck. Oikawa feels his rapidly beating pulse stutter as it always does at this contact. Always expecting a kiss but never getting one. Being touched in every way that speaks of ownership but never anything that means more. “This is fine.”

Oikawa nods uncertainly and lets his head turn to the side so that he can look out at the room and not meet his gaze for a while. He can feel the growing warmth where Iwaizumi’s fingers and mouth mark their path over his clothed body. He feels himself becoming impatient, and the ache in his chest only worsens the more he thinks of the layers still separating them. Always too many layers—too many clothes and too many words unsaid.

He reaches out and places a halting hand on Iwaizumi’s shoulders. He swallows, raises himself up on one elbow so that they’re eye level.

“Stop hesitating,” Oikawa says, and he’s not sure if he’s saying it to Iwaizumi or himself “Do you want this or not?”

Iwaizumi doesn’t falter when he says “I do,” and it makes Oikawa’s breath catch in his throat for the fraction of a second.

He allows himself to smile at that and then he’s pulling Iwaizumi down so that his head is pressed to Oikawa’s chest, ear pressed against his breast pocket. Right where the traitorous stutter of his heart can so easily be heard. But Iwaizumi doesn’t seem to listen to any of it or—Oikawa thinks—he chooses to ignore it.

“Not the bedroom this time?” Oikawa asks idly as Iwaizumi begins fiddling with his belt again. He raises his hands to card his fingers through Iwaizumi’s hair, letting that small gesture encourage him to work faster while he lies on the couch, waiting.

Instead of answering, Iwaizumi lowers his head, reaching down low until Oikawa can feel the edge of his teeth graze his trousers. He inhales sharply, not sure what’s happening until he hears the soft metal clink of his zipper being pulled. Iwaizumi’s looking at him as he drags it down and it’s all Oikawa can do to not flush under the intensity of his gaze. His eyes are full of something dark and enveloping, desire and impatience getting the best of him as they always do. It makes the blood rise to Oikawa’s head and he feels a little lightheaded when he notices his pants being pulled down.

“Not the bedroom this time,” Iwaizumi murmurs, as if it’s a secret. His hands move up and down Oikawa’s thigh, thumb rubbing circles on the gentle skin of his leg. “I know you like it better here.”

“So do you,” Oikawa huffs, raising himself up on one elbow to pull at Iwaizumi’s tie. It’s always a little loose and Oikawa feels the sudden urge to place a mark on the little skin that is revealed, just to see how he’d react. Iwaizumi smiles slightly as if he can read his mind but he doesn’t move away. Oikawa takes it as encouragement and tugs the tie with a little more force, bringing Iwaizumi’s face close to his.

“What do you want?” Iwaizumi asks, mirroring his words. There’s an amused lilt to his voice and Oikawa feels the spark of uncontrollable desire grow into something more. The urge to pull him even closer and bring their lips to meet is overwhelming but he swallows and lowers his eyes so they’re trained on Iwaizumi’s throat.

“I want to place a mark,” he says, swallowing past his nerves “Just one is fine.”

Iwaizumi’s amused huff was something he’d already expected but the softness in his eyes is new.

“Do it then,” he says, and it’s almost like an order. Iwaizumi’s fingers dig into Oikawa’s thigh, moving closer towards his waistband and hooking his thumb along the crease.

Oikawa moves, lips hovering over the warm skin of Iwaizumi’s throat. He can smell the faint cologne and sweat still coming off him and he wants to lick it right off. So he does, tentatively flicking his tongue over the delicate skin of his neck, fingers still curled tightly around his tie as if letting go of it will snap both of them out of their daze. Oikawa looks up once to find Iwaizumi’s eyes on him, pupils blown and his lips parted slightly as if breathing is all too much for him at this moment. He sees the way his Adam’s apple moves when he swallows and then Oikawa’s pressing his lips right there, at the part where his neck and collarbone meet.

Oikawa knows Iwaizumi likes it the moment he takes in a sharp breath and his fingers dig harder into Oikawa’s thigh. A light sigh escapes Oikawa’s lips as he kisses a path down his neck, tasting the way Iwaizumi’s skin feels and the way he can almost feel the steady pulse of life right underneath his lips. He kisses and kisses and it’s not enough, but Iwaizumi’s hand curls around Oikawa’s hair, tugging gently in encouragement. He thinks he should have asked him of this sooner because seeing Iwaizumi like this—face flushed and breaths shallow— just from this simple act of affection, is something Oikawa couldn’t have imagined if he hadn’t seen it for himself.

There’s a small patch of pink skin on the side of his neck now, and Oikawa allows himself a smug sense of satisfaction at the sight. He wants to leave more, but he’s sure Iwaizumi wouldn’t be too pleased with that. He sighs just once and pulls back because Iwaizumi’s hands are back on his thighs and his knee pushes persistently against his hip, asking for more than just this.

Iwaizumi’s smiling a little, in the dazed sort of way he always does when Oikawa does something new and exciting for him. He’s almost tempted to think they’re lovers and the illusion is enough to make the anxious knock of his heart die down for a while. He places a hand on Iwaizumi’s chest and begins working on opening his buttons, not pausing to ask because he knows by now that this is how things go between them.

Iwaizumi starts to move again, sliding closer and pushing his knee so that it presses against Oikawa's crotch. He's hard and that's enough knowledge to make Iwaizumi edge against him just a little more, teasing him with the touch. A light moan escapes Oikawa's lips at that and he works his hands faster, pushing apart Iwaizumi's shirt and moving to unbuckle his belt. It’s not much work when his fingers are so trained to opening it already and it's a thought that always fills him with a mix of pride and melancholy. To be so good at something when it's not even worth speaking of except in moments like these.

The belt comes off quickly and then the trousers. Oikawa only feels a small twinge of regret as he hastily pushes them down Iwaizumi's legs. The creases are always something Iwaizumi hates but he's sure neither of them can bring themselves to care very much at this moment.

"You don't mind, right?" he asks anyway, dipping his head into the crook of Iwaizumi's neck and biting lightly. Iwaizumi's fingers hook and pull down the waistband of Oikawa's underwear.

That’s all the answer Iwaizumi gives and Oikawa doesn't need to wait when he can feel the warmth of Iwaizumi's hand on his length. Just that faint contact is enough to make Oikawa moan, a shuddering huff of breath escapes his lips and he would have been embarrassed if he had missed the way Iwaizumi always seems to eat it up—eyes hungry and wanting. He moans harder when his grip tightens and he strokes up and down a few times, almost as if he's testing his reaction.

Oikawa's sure his response doesn't disappoint as Iwaizumi touches him with firm, steady fingers that always drive Oikawa crazy. He wants more and his hands are clutching tightly It’s almost a little like he's plummeting down, nerve endings exploding with warmth and every cell in his body craving for more. He wants Iwaizumi and it's never enough to just feel his hand on his skin, aching and burning.

In all of this, it always seems like Iwaizumi's the one who's giving and Oikawa continues to take what little he can before the moment dies entirely. He takes a calming breath and pushes up on his elbow so that Iwaizumi takes a pause and looks at him questioningly.

He raises an eyebrow and Oikawa flushes just the slightest.

"What's wrong?" Iwaizumi asks, the trace of concern ever present in his voice. Oikawa hates it.

He smiles and pushes himself higher, almost so that he's sitting up. Oikawa's legs brush against Iwaizumi's and he can feel the bulge between his legs as well— a yearning desire to be touched that he refuses to voice, it seems.

"Lie down," he says and he's acutely aware of how much it sounds like an order. He likes it—very much— when Iwaizumi only nods and does as he's told.

"What are you doing?" he asks, the hint of confusion lacing his voice. He’s looking at Oikawa expectantly as he looms over him, hands pressed to Iwaizumi's hips. He pushes apart his thighs and pulls his trousers lower so they’re bunched around his ankles. Iwaizumi jolts the slightest in surprise and he's already trying to get up. Oikawa pushes his back down with a hand on his chest.

"Let me do this for you," he says in a voice that he hopes is soothing. "You wanted to forget, didn't you?"

"I don't think this helps in forgetting very much," Iwaizumi sighs, arm lowered over his eyes so he can hide any signs of his embarrassment. As much as Iwaizumi loves being on the receiving end of Oikawa's attentions, he's never come even close to admitting his want. The bulge in his underwear is testament enough, though. Oikawa lowers his head and presses a warm kiss right there, at the tip, and watches Iwaizumi flinch once again.

"You can pretend I’m some else," he says "You can fuck my mouth if you want."

"E-Enough," Iwaizumi exhales loudly and he's still not looking at Oikawa. Oikawa feels a little disappointed but he'd never tell him that. The most he can do is this.

So he gently pries off Iwaizumi's underwear and takes hold of his length in his hands. It’s warm and hard, the silky smooth skin of it is already familiar. He circles his thumb at the tip and pushes gently, feeling the tremor rise in Iwaizumi's body. The rise and fall of his hips speak more than Iwaizumi's mouth ever does. Oikawa smiles to himself and brings his mouth to kiss the soft skin of his thighs, grazing his teeth there and moving closer to his length. He feels Iwaizumi's fingers come to rest in Oikawa's hair, wanting to tug but asking for permission. Oikawa inclines his head to the side, letting him know it's fine, before placing a single kiss atop the head of his cock.

Iwaizumi's fingers tighten in his hair and it would have been painful if it had been anyone but him. Oikawa takes it as encouragement and licks a line down the length, taking in the taste of Iwaizumi's warmth. He does it a few more times until he can feel Iwaizumi's impatience grow, hands stilling and his breathing sharpening until Oikawa’s sure he can't stand it anymore.

He begins to take a little of him into his mouth, sure to be slow in case Iwaizumi decides to change his mind about the entire thing as he usually does. His hand's still in his hair and Oikawa thinks of it as a cue to mean he's doing alright so far. He presses the heat of his mouth over his skin and feels Iwaizumi reform himself around him. He’s hard and wanting and it's all Oikawa had always imagined when he'd thought of Iwaizumi lying pliant under him. Oikawa hears a groan when he flicks his tongue across the tip, pressing down just once so he can hear the sweet sighs that escape Iwaizumi’s lips. Iwaizumi is never loud, not in the way most of his lovers had been, and he craves each and every noise that he makes almost as much as he wants his touch. He can sense the self-restraint in each halted tremor of Iwaizumi's legs. His stomach is taut with tension and Oikawa places a calming hand on his hip.

He draws back just enough that Iwaizumi finally brings down his hand and looks at him, confused.

"I said you can fuck my mouth if you want," he said, "I'm already used to this, you know."

"You hate it,"

Oikawa doesn't deem it fit to reply to that so he just rolls his eyes and takes him into his mouth again. Iwaizumi gasps and Oikawa is relentless when he works at him this time. He knows exactly what Iwaizumi likes and he gives it to him, kissing and sucking at his length until Iwaizumi's hands are clutching tightly at the couch, fingers digging into the cushioning.

He does start moving then, thrusting lightly into Oikawa's mouth and heaving a huge sigh as he does. He’s hot in Oikawa's mouth as he moves, hips bucking erratically as his movements turn faster, less controlled and full of desire. Oikawa takes him in as far as he can but it's only so much before he can feel him in his throat, making the back of his eyes water. He pulls back just enough that it's comfortable for both of them and Iwaizumi's already shuddering, chest heaving with the buildup of climax, and Oikawa lets him take his mouth.

He comes with a cry, abrupt and hoarse and Iwaizumi's hands are tight in his hair, trying to pull him back but Oikawa bats him away. He takes all of it, the hot white liquid filling his mouth until he can't anymore. He swallows.

Iwaizumi lies on his back, panting for a while and Oikawa leans back up, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. When their eyes meet, Oikawa’s not sure what to expect. He’s a little embarrassed and his throat feels raw. He’s not sure he should speak—to say anything that would break the tension that always springs up between them after this.

“So,” he ventures after a while when he’s sure his voice won’t come out ragged. It’s still a long shot from normal but Oikawa ignores it. “Did you think of anyone?”

“No,” Iwaizumi says, getting up and tugging his underwear back on. His trousers are still a crumpled mess around his knees and he doesn’t seem to care about fixing that. “I didn’t.”

Oikawa raises an eyebrow but doesn’t answer. Just nods.

“I don’t need to think about anyone,” Iwaizumi says again, and his arm is around Oikawa’s neck, pulling him closer. There’s only the shortest distance between them now, enough to kiss, enough to touch and say things that Oikawa’s sure will come spilling out the moment Iwaizumi lets him. “Not anyone.”

Oikawa huffs out a laugh and he knows that’s not what Iwaizumi wants. Iwaizumi’s still looking at him— at his lips like this is what he wants more than anything, and Oikawa wishes he could push away his fear and just take the plunge. He can feel him leaning closer and Oikawa closes his eyes, heaves a sigh and pushes him back. Just a kiss and he can’t even allow himself that much.

“That’s not what you said the last time I asked you,” Oikawa says, swallowing.

Iwaizumi seems to get the idea and he leans back, breaking the distance that had held them magnetized—so close to each other. He breathes out a laugh and shrugs.

“Not saying anything isn’t the same as hiding it, though,” he says and that’s all he speaks of the matter. The look he gives Oikawa is enough to say that he already knows what Oikawa’s been hiding. Before Oikawa can say anything, he’s already getting off the couch and composing himself into propriety.

Oikawa watches him from where’s sitting, noting the broadness of his back and the tight tension always hiding under the thin layers of cloth. When he turns around, he can see the faint red mark on his neck blooming into something darker, more possessive.

Oikawa looks away and pretends he can’t see.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this! I really wish I could write and expand more on this AU, especially Oikawa and Iwaizumi's characters and their backstories. I'm sure that would make the reading experience a lot more entertaining regardless of this being a silly pwp haha! I do plan on getting to that sometime soon and I hope you'll be able to enjoy those ( ﾟ▽ﾟ)/
> 
> If you enjoyed this please don't hesitate to leave feedback of any sorts, it's always greatly appreciated! ( ´ ▽ ` )  
> You can follow me on my tumblr at [porridgemilk](http://porridgemilk.tumblr.com/)!


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